Emma Gray never thought she would set foot in Cole Enterprises. The tall glass building stood like a monument to wealth and power, and she felt small as she crossed the marble lobby with her résumé clutched in her hands.
It wasn't just any company. It was his.
Adrian Cole. Billionaire. CEO. Untouchable.
Emma had heard the rumors—everyone had. That he was cold, ruthless, and didn't tolerate mistakes. That assistants never lasted more than a few months. And that he never let anyone close.
So why was she here?
Because rent was due, her mother's medical bills were piling up, and every other job application had ended in rejection. Cole Enterprises was her last chance, even if it meant working under a man everyone whispered about.
"Miss Gray?" The receptionist's polished smile broke through her nerves. "Mr. Cole will see you now."
Her knees wobbled, but Emma followed the woman into the elevator, up to the 50th floor. When the doors opened, she stepped into an office so sleek it looked like it had been designed for a magazine spread—black leather, chrome, and endless city views.
And then she saw him.
Adrian Cole sat behind his desk, pen in hand, eyes sharp as steel. He didn't look up immediately, and when he did, Emma's breath caught. His presence was overwhelming—dark suit, perfectly combed hair, a jawline carved like stone. His gaze pinned her where she stood.
"Emma Gray," he said, voice low and commanding. "Sit."
She obeyed instantly.
The interview wasn't like others. He didn't ask about her strengths or weaknesses. He didn't smile or offer water. Instead, he watched her—studied her, like she was a puzzle he intended to solve.
"You've worked as an assistant before?" he asked.
"Yes," Emma managed. "At Fletcher & Co. for almost a year."
"And why did you leave?"
She swallowed. "The company… downsized."
Adrian leaned back, tapping his pen against the desk. His expression never changed, but his eyes seemed to read between her words.
"Do you know what this job requires, Miss Gray?"
She hesitated. "Organization. Attention to detail. Discretion."
"Discretion," he repeated, as if testing the word on his tongue.
Then, to her surprise, he closed the file in front of him. "You start tomorrow."
Emma blinked. "I—what?"
"You'll work directly under me. Don't be late."
And just like that, the interview was over.
As she walked out of his office, Emma's heart pounded. She should have felt relief, maybe even joy. But all she could think was—
What did I just step into?